


The One Who Could Ruin It All

by afteriwake



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Jealous Sherlock, Lonely Sherlock, Molly is Engaged, One-Sided Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, POV Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock Feels, Sherlock Holmes & Molly Hooper Friendship, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Sherlock Holmes Has a Heart, Sherlock Holmes Loves Molly Hooper, Sherlock Wants The Best For Molly, Sherlock-centric, Wedding Planning, determined Sherlock, stepping aside
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 17:49:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10313717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: Sherlock comes to a realization as he goes through all the potential threats to Tom and Molly’s wedded bliss.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amberowl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amberowl/gifts).



> So I know it's Molly Madness Month, and most of my stuff so far has been Molly-centric, but when I wrote this it was just so much Sherlock angst. So much lovely, lovely Sherlock angst. It was asked for ages ago by **Amberowl** , who requested the following: " _Molly's and Tom's wedding preparations are going well underway. Sherlock (like he has done with Mary's ex-boyfriend before the Watson's wedding) tries to search out Molly's ex-lovers who could be a possible 'threat' to the happy couple, but remains unsuccessful. In the end, he's realising... He, Sherlock himself is the one, ('the possible threat') he is looking for..._ " When I was looking for fics to write for **paix4tout** as thanks for a favor, for some reason, this prompt jumped out. Hopefully it's not too depressing!

He wanted the best for her.

It had been a shock to come back from Serbia and find that she had moved on, but he was happy for her. Really. He knew that when the topic of her engagement came up he might clench his jaw a bit or mince his words just a tad, but that was only because he thought she could do _better_. But if Tom made her happy, then he would do everything under the sun to make sure no force tore them asunder.

He pored over every detail of Tom’s background, interviewed every woman he had laid with and every woman he had dated, however briefly. Molly really was a step up, in so many ways. These women would not pose any problems. None of them wanted him back. He was gone from their lives and they had happily moved on. Not that Tom was a _bad_ man, they had all assured him, just...boring. Plain. Even dull had been used a few times.

Safe.

Perhaps Molly needed safe.

A psychopath and a sociopath, after all, was not a good pattern.

And that was what surprised him, when he went delving into Molly’s personal life. That was all there was to her love life, really: a dead psychopath and a living sociopath who had never given her more than a glance before his life depended on her expertise. Well, no. He had given her more than a glance. He knew the shade of her lips, when she darkened it with lipstick and when she took it off. He paid attention to the shape of them, too, how they seemed thinner without the darkening colour, but were still somewhat attractive.

He knew her measurements, too. It was why it was so easy to decipher Irene’s because she and Molly were shaped the same. He would have noticed even if Irene had chosen to confront him fully clothed, but seeing Irene in the nude he had briefly wondered if Molly was that shapely, having the same measurements. Oh, there were other reasons his usual ability to cold read a person had shorted out, he could admit, but long after Irene had left he wondered just how different Molly would look in the nude to Irene on nights when he was trying hard to sleep.

Those were thoughts he wouldn’t admit to anyone.

Nor were the thoughts that he knew how she took her coffee, that her cat was a rescue that preferred albacore tuna and so when he came by he always made sure he had a can with him, that she hummed “Yankee Doodle Went To Town” while cleaning her dishes, that she had well-worn childhood books interspersed on her bookcase with medical journals and leather-bound classics…

He knew all of these _things_ about Molly, more than most, and it had never seemed more important until now, because now he knew.

The only person capable of ruining Tom and Molly’s happiness was _him_ , because he was in love with Margaret Hooper.

He ran a hand down his face at the realization sunk in. How had it happened? When? He had suppressed all of his emotions for so long, kept such a tight rein on them that this never should have happened. It ever should have gotten an inkling of a start, let alone gotten this far. And yet here he was, admitting, at least to himself, that he had the capability to destroy her happiness because he loved her.

And he could. He was a selfish bastard, and he could tell her he loved her and sweep her away from the meat dagger and…

And then what?

What did he know of relationships? What did he know of _really_ loving someone? Of _being_ in love? Nothing, that was what. He had been told all his life that caring was not an advantage. He had, for years and years, held himself aloft and had only recently let people seep their way in. But friends were not lovers. Not even what he and Irene had was a true relationship.

And he would _never_ hurt Molly. 

Perhaps that was how he knew he loved her. He could, if he chose, end her relationship and claim her in any way he saw fit, but in the end, he would lose her, and in the end, he would hurt her. Which meant one thing.

He would not interfere.

He would tell the happy couple there would be no worries. No one would try and break them apart, it was all handled. He knew Tom may not take it well but Molly knew him well and Molly would. He would accept her embrace and her kiss on the cheek, smile back at her smile, and then let himself fade into the background of wedding preparations. He would not put himself through another wedding; he would find a case of some sort to keep him busy the day of the nuptials. He would send a gift, something more for Molly than her husband, with a card wishing them happiness. He would inquire when she returned from her honeymoon if she was happy. And he would let her talk about wedded bliss whenever she chose for as long as it lasted.

And he would never tell her the truth, that he loved her. He would spare her the pain it would bring. It was the best for both of them.


End file.
